


Ride Or Die

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, M/M, mentioned shiro; matt; pidge; hunk; shay; and allura, platonic keith/lance - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 08:52:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11825292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: When Keith's car breaks down in the middle of the night, he goes through all of his (usually) reliable contacts to call for help. But, as they say, what you need is always in the last place you look.





	Ride Or Die

**Author's Note:**

> I!!!!! Love!!!!!!!!!!!!! Platonic!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Klance!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
> based on [this](http://ironinkpen.tumblr.com/post/161988516042/lance-is-like-the-unexpected-ride-or-die-friend) by ironinkpen on tumblr :) she also recently posted [this](http://ironinkpen.tumblr.com/post/164043771187/i-like-to-think-that-lance-is-one-of-those-guys) which is real similar to my fic ['love you'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11278746) that I posted a lil bit back so like kudos to you i think your posts are great and apparently we think alike !!!

Keith slammed his hands against the wheel of his car hard enough for the horn to blare. “Fuck,” he grumbled, dropping his head down and drawing in a slow breath. He took the key out of the ignition and held it in his hand for a moment before putting it back in, the car sputtering to life just long enough for him to pull it into an abandoned parking lot. It made a loud noise that Keith most definitely never wanted to hear again and promptly died. He cursed once more, gripping the wheel until his knuckles turned white. The cold air from outside started seeping through the doors, making him shiver. He could physically feel goose bumps pop up on his arms as he wrestled his phone from his pocket.

He swiped through his contacts with determination, biting his lip. Someone had to be awake. If no one was, then surely someone would wake up if he called. It was just after four in the morning, and he was stranded.

He opened the driver’s side door and pulled himself from the tiny car as he pressed the button marked ‘call’ by Shiro’s contact.

He crossed his arms and glanced nervously around him as it rang. And rang. And rang. Shiro picked up right as Keith was about to give up and call someone else.

“Keith? What’s wrong?”

He sighed, partially in relief, partially in embarrassment. “My car broke down, could you come pick me up?”

“I would, but I’m at work.”

“Damn it,” he breathed. “I forgot you worked nights.” He rested a hand on the top of his car but pulled it back when the metal roof turned out to be a lot colder than it looked. He shook out his hand and started thinking hard, still on the line with Shiro. He was too far from his apartment to walk, and he could tell that he was out of gas, if something else wasn’t wrong with his car besides that. “I’ll call someone else,” he said slowly.

“Sorry, bro.” Shiro really did sound sorry, and Keith knew that he would’ve definitely been right over if he wasn’t on shift.

“No, it’s okay. See you later.”

“Bye.”

“Fuck,” Keith whispered again, as soon as his older brother hung up. He started to make a mental list of people to call. Matt, Shiro’s roommate, was the first to come to mind.

He made his way around the car, his legs almost having a mind of their own, as he tapped his way to Matt’s contact. He didn’t answer.

Pidge was next. “What’s up?” She asked, answering after only two rings.

He could feel himself frowning. “My car broke down.”

“That's rough.” Her voice was small, distracted. She was probably watching a movie when Keith had called and was too tired to pause it.

“Yeah, can you come pick me up?” There was a small bud of hope growing in his chest, eager to get out of the cold January wind.

“Oh, I can’t. Hunk is out of town, and he has my car.”

“Fuck.” The bud of hope shriveled with Pidge’s words, the next person on his list out too. “Okay, sorry. I’ll call someone else.” His fingers were starting to go numb, but it was somehow even colder in his car, so he had no choice but to stay out.

“Don’t be sorry, see you in class.”

“Yeah, bye.” He stretched his fingers out as Pidge hung up, letting out a long string of curses. He only had a few people left that he could call.

Skipping over Hunk’s contact with a sinking in his gut, he called Shay. She didn’t answer.

Allura didn’t answer either. He sighed and resigned himself to sitting on the curb, wishing that he had thought of bringing his jacket with him when he sprinted out of his apartment two hours earlier.

He was completely hopeless, just about to put his phone away and start walking to somewhere where he could stand inside when his last option caught his eye. Lance.

It’s worth a shot, he thought, his finger hovering over the call button. He pressed it, lifting the phone to his ear and flinching as the cold metal touched the skin. Lance answered before the first ring ended.

“To what do I owe the pleasure,” he drawled, and Keith was already regretting pressing the call button, but he was glad that Lance was awake all the same. He hadn’t assumed Lance was one to be up that late, or more accurately, that early. Nonetheless, maybe he’d be able to get out of the wind, and that was all that mattered. “Of having Keith Kogane call me at,” there was a slight shuffling noise, Lance’s voice dropping away for a moment, “four thirty-two in the morning?”

Keith grunted with mild annoyance, but he was too cold to put any real bite into it. “My car broke down.”

Lance’s demeanor abruptly shifted, almost as if he were never joking in the first place. “Are you safe?” There was a loud ‘swoosh’ under his voice, then the sound of feet hitting a wood floor.

Keith was taken aback. “Well, yeah. I’m just sitting on a curb right now.”

“Where are you?” There was noise in the background, a door opening, a drawer slamming shut.

“I’m- uh- near the corner of Eighth and Windsor, I guess. I’m in the parking lot of that closed down strip mall.”

“The streetlights there are shit,” Lance noted, and Keith looked up. He hadn’t noticed, but they really were. There was a jingle of keys on the other line, then a muffled ‘mmph’ before Lance’s voice picked back up. “Do you want coffee?”

“I- what?” Keith got hit by a blast of freezing wind, and he shivered, rubbing his hands on his bare arms.

The teasing tone was back, albeit a little more serious than before. Keith wasn’t quite sure how Lance could make his voice hold so many emotions at once. “It’s four-thirty in the morning, dude. If I’m not scalding my tongue the entire way across the city, I’m going to pass out at the wheel. Which would be really bad, because then our friends would have to pick you up from the curb and me from the hospital.”

There was something about the way Lance said it, the idea sounding so out of nowhere, that it startled a laugh out of Keith. It was short and quiet, met only with silence from Lance’s side. “Yeah,” he said after a moment. His voice was soft, barely there. Just how it should’ve been to speak while sitting on the curb, outside of a long-since-forgotten secondhand clothing store, in the middle of winter. The wind whistled through the broken glass behind him, and he shivered again. “A coffee sounds nice.”

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes, bud. Hang tight.” A door slammed right as Lance hung up.

“You’re far from home, Mullet,” was the first thing Lance said after he stepped out of his car. The second was, “Where the fuck is your coat?” He rushed to Keith’s side, hands flying out to grip at Keith’s bare shoulders. His warm hands immediately started to rub down the goosebumps as Keith struggled to find an answer. Part of his mind told him to snap back at Lance, to get angry at him for calling him a name, for touching him without his permission, but he was far too busy trying to articulate that he left his coat back at his apartment when he left to go driving in a blind panic.

“I- uh- it’s in my apartment,” he said after a minute of Lance vigorously rubbing at his arms, and technically, he was telling the truth.

“How long have you been out here?” Lance stopped moving his hands, instead, tightening his grip and pulling Keith to his feet. Keith could barely see him in the dark, but he could make out that he was wearing a dark grey sweatshirt that looked too many sizes too big for him and black sweatpants. His glasses were on, and Keith took a second to stare, because _holy fuck does he wear contacts? I didn’t know he needed glasses, what the fuck?_

“I don’t know, fifteen minutes before I called you, and then the twenty it took you to get here, maybe?”

“Dude, get in my goddamn car.” His voice was hard as he let Keith go with a small push in the direction of the still-running vehicle. He stumbled at first, but his hand finally found the door’s handle in the dim light.

He was greeted with a wave of warm air as he shut the door and put on the seat belt. He was still shivering, but the heat was turned all of the way up, making the air heavy with dry warmth. He was just starting to wonder where Lance was when the driver’s door opened, revealing the subject of Keith’s thoughts, holding a large blanket in his hands. He threw it across the console, barely giving Keith time to react before the comforter hit him in the face. He slowly pulled it onto himself, grateful for the extra warmth. He had left his apartment in his pajamas, which had been a thin light grey tank top, Star Wars pajama pants that Pidge had gotten him for Christmas, and socks. He had remembered to put on shoes, though, unlike in previous late night car rides, and he was incredibly glad that he did. Despite the lack of snow, he would be lucky if he didn’t have either frostbite or hypothermia.

“Here,” Lance said as he pulled out of the parking lot. He picked up a cup from the cup holder and brought it to his lips, motioning with his other hand at the second cup.

“Is that mine?” Keith asked, even though it was pretty obvious what Lance meant by the motion.

“Yeah, it’s from McDonald's,” Lance said around the lid.

Keith took a tentative sip, watching Lance out of the corner of his eye. “Thanks for picking me up, man. I appreciate it.”

“Wow, you’re not going to thank me for the coffee? That’s one and a half hard earned dollars, wasted on you.” Lance grinned in Keith’s peripheral, and he could easily muster up some annoyance, but it was weak, and so was he.

“Oh, shut up,” he managed, barely catching the flicker of Lance’s eyes over to him and then back to the road.

“Why were you out driving at four in the morning?” Lance asked cautiously as he made a left turn a minute or so later.

“Couldn’t sleep.” Keith didn’t want to elaborate, but something told him that Lance understood. He couldn’t feel the telltale hint of exasperation low in his chest that he got every single time he spoke to Lance, and he tilted the cup of coffee against his lips slowly, trying to figure out what that meant.

“Me neither,” Lance supplied airily instead of prying. Keith didn’t know what to say, so he just looked down at his lap and bit his lip. Lance leaned over to turn up the radio, playing a song that Keith didn’t recognize. “Oh, hell yeah,” he hummed, turning his head to beam at Keith.

“What is it?” He asked, shifting under the blanket.

“You don’t know Cascada?” He gasped, turning his head quickly to stare at Keith. “She’s iconic! Do you live under a rock?”

“No, I don’t,” Keith answered, realizing a moment too late that his answer was applicable to both of Lance’s questions. He listened to Lance sing along for a minute or so, his smile growing at Lance’s pure excitement.

“The good times and the bad times, we’ve been through it all,” Lance sang quietly, his eyes on the road. “You make me rise when I fall.” He took a deep breath and put one hand to his chest dramatically, almost yelling the next lyrics. “‘Cause every time we touch, I get this feeling! And every time we kiss, I swear I could fly!” Keith couldn’t help but chuckle at how animated Lance was over a song that had to have been released sometime almost ten years before.

Lance shot a glance over at Keith with a stupidly goofy grin on his face, and Keith could feel any hint of annoyance he’d ever felt for the boy melt away. Lance stopped at a light and continued to yell along, only encouraged by Keith’s amusement. They passed a club, the lights outside still lit brightly, and of course that was the moment that the neon blue lights shone into the car. They lit up Lance’s face in a hauntingly gorgeous way, and Keith could almost feel his stomach climb into his throat.

Where did all of those… emotions come from? He and Lance didn’t get along. Not since day one. They were constantly bickering, pushing and shoving each other, arguing in the group chat that Hunk made. It was insane to think that the person to make his blood boil was the same as the person who just picked him up from the curb. Maybe he was just having an off night. He had always thought that the whole ‘rivals/bitter enemies’ thing was stupid. But there was something there that he hadn’t felt around Lance before, and it all had something to do with the way Lance was sitting in the seat, black glasses perched high on his nose, exuberance radiating from him even though he had probably been without sleep for a solid twenty-four hours. _He’s more thoughtful than I’ve ever given him credit for. He bought me coffee and picked me up from the fucking curb, for God's sake._

“Mullet, I asked you a question.” Lance was looking at him expectantly, one eyebrow raised.

“I- uh- yeah? Sorry, I zoned out.” He shook himself from his thoughts, watching the goofy grin reappear on Lance’s stupidly full lips.

“Do you want to stay at my place tonight?” Lance turned his face back to the road as he asked the question, the grin not leaving his mouth.

“Why?”

“Because my apartment is closer to your classes, and you don’t have a car, and it’s January?”

“I can still walk, it’s okay,” he tried to dismiss Lance’s offer, but Lance obviously wasn’t going to give in that easily.

“No, sorry. It’s too late, I’m taking you to my place. I’m not gonna let you freeze to death and fail your classes. Do you know how far in debt you’ll fall into if you die at the beginning of the semester?”  

Keith let out a small laugh at Lance’s words, tilting his head down to look at his lap. “Okay, I’ll stay over.”

“Good, because we’re about to get there.”

“Fuck you, man.”

* * *

"Welcome!" Lance said brightly as he swung the front door open. “This is your first time here, right?”

Keith could only nod as he was rushed inside, trying to take in as much of the apartment as he could before Lance pushed him to the couch. There were posters carefully taped to the walls in the entryway, ranging from Star Wars to Estelle to school fair-esque cat puns. Lance threw his keys down onto the table that was beside the door, clapping his hands together.

“I'm beat,” he said, moving to lead Keith to the living room. “I’ll give you a tour in the morning, since you’ve never been here before, but right now, we both have to sleep.”

Keith hummed in agreement, stepping towards the couch when Lance’s hand was suddenly on his shoulder, pushing him towards a hallway.

“Second door on the right. Make yourself comfortable.” It was short and to the point, but it took Keith a moment to understand what he meant.

“What?” He turned back to face Lance, and he must’ve looked a lot more confused than he felt, because Lance burst into laughter as soon as they made eye contact.

“You’re going to sleep in my room,” Lance explained, taking off his glasses and folding them slowly.

“I can stay on the couch, it’s f-”

“No, go ahead, take my bed.” He dismissed Keith with a wave of his hand, and he was left standing in muted awe as Lance pulled off his sweatshirt with a simple grace that Keith wasn’t aware he had. “You’re the guest, your classes start earlier, you need the sleep more than I do.” He threw himself backward onto the couch, looking up at Keith with half-lidded eyes. “Go on.”

He turned on his heel before he could let himself zone out again. That time he would probably end up staring at Lance’s abdomen, knowing his luck. He called out a “goodnight” over his shoulder and pushed open the mentioned with one hand. He was too tired to think to look around the room, instead, dragging himself across to the double bed in the corner. His eyes were on the hardwood floor as he approached, absently taking in the room with the rest of his senses. He could hear a clock ticking somewhere above the bed, the smooth trickle of water to his left. Did Lance have fish? He racked his mind for Lance ever mentioning anything about a fish as he shed his socks, putting them on the small bedside table and frowning. He breathed in through his nose, vaguely smelling salt water mixed with something he couldn’t quite place before setting an alarm on his phone for six forty-five. If Lance had really been serious about the tour, Keith wanted to be prepared.

He slid under the deep maroon comforter, letting himself stare at the ceiling for a few minutes. It really was comfortable, with an abundance of pillows and a large stuffed bear near the foot of the bed.

He drifted off slowly, wrapped in the unfamiliar smell of Lance. His last thought before dropping into sleep was that maybe they shouldn't act like they hated each other so much.

**Author's Note:**

> excuse any mistakes i went over this like once before posting it lmao  
> &&&if you're reading this right now, I hope you have a really good day :)


End file.
